When Gravity Shifts
by S.S. Reason
Summary: Instead of solely training soldiers for battle, Dumbledore decides to give the students a chance for a real life, and bring houses together. Though, what happens is beyond anything he could have expected. D/HR. G/BLZ. R/NOTT.
1. Chapter 1

Rating: PG-13, there may be a chance later that a chapter could be rated R, but as of now I have no idea, but those chapters will have clear warnings for all of those who wouldn't like to read them.

Warnings: Slash. Language. Sexual themes.

Based on but not following the events of book 6. Canon to start.

---

The heavy door slammed behind Draco Malfoy as he stepped out into the hot heat of the summer in Knockturn Alley. The blonde let out a breath of unease and started away, still with the same unnerved feeling that someone was watching him. Just as he reached the corner the street, like he had done just before he had entered Borgan and Botts, he stopped in his tracks and glanced around. Someone was definitely watching him. But who?

All in all, Draco would have rather bolted from the place, pretending to be ignorant of the watchful eyes that followed, but what that would be, was cowardice. At the very least it was his responsibility to know who knew he had been here.

He gulped, though any visible signs of fear were masked from his stoic, determined face. He turned around and headed back just in time to see a witch with very frizzy hair enter the shop he had just left. Anger ran through him, and he immediately looked for the other two that couldn't have been far behind.

They were nowhere to be seen, though Draco knew this didn't mean that they weren't there. Yanking his wand easily from his robes pocket, he headed towards the door for a confrontation. No Mudblood or St. Potter and Weasel were going to ruin what he had to do. Then he stopped, a scene was not what he needed, it would only raise their suspicions if he lunged at her like that. He was a good deal away still and watched as Hermione was kicked out of the store, and Borgin turned the Closed sign over.

She disappeared into thin air and he could barely make out mumbled voices. _Invisibility cloak? _He stayed put until they were far out of sight, wanting to curse them all. But still, uneasiness ran through him.

What was going through his mind was fear. Fear of failure. For if he failed, he was going to die. And Draco wanted to live. Who would ever want to die, especially at the hands of a Death Eater or the Dark Lord?

He shook his head of these kinds of thoughts, but that didn't matter. They would continue to plague him until he had carried out his mission. The one in which he was determined to succeed, no matter what. He wasn't going to die. Potter and his friends weren't going to find him out. He'd make sure of it.

---

Hermione stepped off of the Hogwarts Express and was instantly buffeted by the wind. A storm was raging over the school grounds, with lightning splitting the sky every few seconds and rain being blown sideways across the ground. Pulling her cloak tighter, though it would hardly do her any good in this weather, she looked for Harry through the darkness and rain. She hadn't been comfortable leaving him alone on the train after he'd been so despondent throughout the summer, but she and Ron had Prefect duties and were not going to neglect them before the school year even began. _Unlike some people…_, she thought to herself with annoyance.

"Do you see him anywhere, Ron?" she asked, looking back at the tall redheaded boy who followed her off of the train.

"Huh?" Ron asked loudly, obviously barely able to hear over the wind. He stumbled a bit and Hermione sighed and went back to searching through the throng of people. "Where's Harry?" he shouted. Very few people were trickling out of the train now and there hadn't been a sight of the boy with black hair and glasses.

"No idea," she yelled back, struggling to be heard. "Let's go to the carriages and see if anyone noticed him leaving. We'll have a better chance of finding him inside the school, anyway." As she finished suggesting this plan, Hermione saw someone leave the next compartment with a smirk. She walked over to him through the mud, annoyance and a sense of duty taking precedence over the search for Harry for the moment. She glared at Draco Malfoy as she approached, shouting over the wind, "Where have you been?"

Draco looked annoyed and responded icily, "Not really any of your business, now is it, Granger?"

"Actually, it is, since you missed the first Prefect meeting and it means everyone else has to do more work to pick up your slack," she replied. "You were supposed to be in the front compartment so that you could get your assignment for patrolling this week and find out which group of Slytherin first years you'll be chaperoning to your common room -" Hermione's lecture was cut off as Ron realized who she had gone to talk to.

"Hermione, why are we talking to Malfoy?" Ron asked with a pained expression. "This prat isn't going to care that he did something wrong. Be better off if he doesn't do his job anyway, then we wouldn't have to see the git."

Draco sneered at both of them in response. "Listen to your boyfriend and piss off, Granger. Why would I care if a Mudblood tells me I've been bad? Besides, shouldn't you and Weasel be off looking for our savior?" He turned away and walked toward the nearest carriage, pulling the door shut behind him.

Ron's ears were visibly bright red even in the storm, and he fumed, "Why do we let that bastard walk away? I swear I'm not going to put up with any more from him this year."

Hermione ignored Ron's usual reaction to an encounter with the Slytherin and looked around anxiously for Harry. Ron may not have noticed it, but something in the way Malfoy suggested that they should be looking for Harry had worried her. She started to suggest that they go back onto the train to look for him, but carriages began to leave and Professor Flitwick was practically wading through the mud as he ushered lingering students into the carriages.

"You two, into this carriage, quickly now," his voice squeaked over the wind as he reached them.

With a resigned sigh, Hermione nodded and led the way into the carriage, fighting the wind to open the door and watching it slam shut behind Ron as the Thestrals she knew were pulling them took off.

---

The sorting had commenced and now plates had filled with food. Ron was filling his plate of chicken and potato's as soon as it had appeared, the girl on his right, however, couldn't seem to sit still, craning her head over him and then the other way.

"Hermione, Harry's not in here, I'm sure he's just…" There was a moment's pause as he thought about where his best friend could possibly be. Why would Harry not gotten to the castle, unless something had happened?

"Ron, we need to go-" She stopped speaking midway and shouted, "Harry! There you are!"

Turning in the direction she was looking he spotted him; he wasn't wet nor looked harmed in any way, though he did look almost embarrassed.

"What happened, mate?" he asked as Harry sat across from them.

"Later," he said rather quickly. Hermione and him watched as he started piling food onto his plate as well.

"Are you okay, though?" Hermione finally asked.

With a nod Harry picked up his goblet and took a drink. "How was the sorting?"

"Funny." Ron broke into a laugh. "Some first year got off the stool with the hat on and tripped into the staff table. Sent Trelawny right into Snape!" he mused at the memory, chuckling some more.

Harry laughed and Hermione shook her head, muttering, "You two…"

The two boys shared a bemused glance and Ron changed the subject to something he knew she would like. Which of course he thought was very considerate given that she had just spent the last half hour worrying over Harry and ignoring him completely even after he had gotten trampled over by a bunch of Ravenclaw's when they had first gotten into the hall and he was pretty sure they had broken something. "Do you think Slughorn's class will be any good?"

The two had told him all about the party that they had gone to on the train and neither had seemed very thrilled about him at all.

Hermione looked upset and bit her lip, as if not wanting to doubt a Professor's teaching ability. "I'm not really sure. He seems…enthusiastic."

"Are you kidding, Hermione?" Harry asked disbelievingly. "The guy seems completely daft."

"That sucks," Ron said, taking a large bite of his chicken.

He gazed out, looking at all the first years that now littered the table, then up to the staff table. Dumbledore was chatting with McGonagall quite animatedly and next to her was a very fat man that he didn't recognize. It must have been Slughorn who was talking to Snape, who filled him with immediate loathing. Well, he was at least glad he wouldn't have to be taking his class this year.

He munched as he listened to conversations going on around him. Seamus was having a heated debate with Parvati and Lavender over the Tornados' recent defeat. Ginny and Hermione had picked up a conversation about a Witch Weekly writer, and Dean and Neville were talking about what they had done over the summer, which as it turned out, was basically nothing since the two of them had been so discouraged from leaving the house – like they all were – because it was unsafe.

Ron decided upon the most interesting of topics to jump into after Seamus said, "You two couldn't have liked them before they started winning, they had nothing going for them!"

"Who'd they lose against?" Ron asked as he lowered his chicken bone. "The Falmouth Falcons?"

"Mmhmm," Parvarti said unpleasantly.

"Who were you rooting for, Ron?" Lavender asked rather curious.

"Falcons," he said simply. "They bloody wailed on them, right?" he asked Seamus.

"Yeah, completely butchered 'em."

"It was ridiculous," Parvarti commented with a sigh.

Lavender nodded, her eyes still on Ron. He turned to her and asked, "You wanted the Tornados?"

"I did, but the Falcons definitely deserved to win."

"Of course they did! You just bet on the Tornados because you can't think and judge a team for yourself," Seamus said passionately before Ron could say anything. "You have to have everyone else think for you before you come up with an opinion."

"Wow, Seamus," Dean said, joining in. "That was a bit much."

"You're such an asshole," Parvarti snapped to the Irish boy.

Seamus sank back sulkily, having just gotten into talking about it and not realizing he was insulting two very attractive girls. Though Ron couldn't blame him, he too got caught up and said stupid things, especially concerning Quidditch.

"Sorry," he mumbled, and went back to his plate.

Ron gave him a slap on the back and laughed. "Tough break, mate."

"Tell me about it," he replied under his breath.

"So, Ron," Lavender was speaking to him again. "Are you taking Advanced Charms this year?"

"Uh, yeah," he said, feeling his ears go a little red.

"Oh good, maybe we'll be able to help each other out then?"

"Oh, uh, sure," he said, taken aback. He smiled a little despite himself, glad that someone for once was showing him attention.

"I'm sure you won't need too much help," Hermione said, Ron surprised that she was joining in. "You did really excellent on last year's."

"That was only because you helped me, Hermione," Ron admitted, looking at her.

"I didn't do so well on my Charm's exam," Neville chimed in, which somehow broke a lot of tension that Ron hadn't realized was there.

"Me either," Dean admitted. "Those tests were hell."

"Really?" Ginny entered "Are they really as bad as they say they are?"

There was a chorus of "Yes's" from everyone except Hermione, who gave a pointed, "No," and then shook her head at everyone else.

"Hermione, you get _everything_," Ron said dismissively.

Hermione quickly looked to her plate and went a little red, Ron assumed because she was annoyed at this statement, since everyone always said it.

"Yeah, you can't really say anything," Parvarti concurred.

"You'll be fine though," Dean said to Ginny a smile lit up on his face.

Ron glanced between them and clenched his teeth, his thoughts instinctively going to, 'Stop looking at my sister like that.'

Quite suddenly the table cleared of dinner, and desert appeared, puddings and cakes, pies and lots of pastry's Ron didn't know the names of.

"Oh!" Lavender squealed in delight at the sight of a chocolate cake, and her and Parvarti quickly got onto the subject of something they had baked over the summer.

Dean however, was still eyeing his sister, and so he cleared his throat. "So, Dean, how was your summer?"

Instantly the boy looked away and to him. "Oh, alright. Yours?"

Ron didn't bother to answer, and instead grabbed the nearest slice of apple pie.

"Harry," his sister spoke. "You're so quiet.

Realizing it was so, Ron nodded, "Yeah, you have been. What's up, mate?"

Harry seemed to be shaken out of his thoughts and just realized people were there. "Nothing. I'm just a bit exhausted." He gave an obviously fake yawn, at which Hermione and Ron shared a knowing glance, but left it alone, knowing he'd tell them later.

"Why were you so late coming to dinner?" Dean asked Harry.

Ron rolled his eyes unseen by Dean, glad at least he knew that his sister was far more interested in Harry than any other guy.

"Got held up," Harry replied shortly.

Ginny eyed him suspiciously then gave questioning looks to him and Hermione. Ron just shrugged in reply.

They fell mostly silent afterwards and ate food in peace. When the food had cleared once again they all looked over to the staff table as Dumbledore rose to his feet to make an announcement.

"Before you all head off to bed, I have a few words. First, we have a recent addition to our staff, Professor Horace Slughorn, who has accepted to take up the position of Potion's master this year."

The hall filled with murmurs. "Potions?" Ron asked.

"But, didn't you say, Harry?" Hermione was looking at him expectantly. The red head also realized that Harry had said Dumbledore had told him Slughorn was taking up the DADA position.

"Well…I guess he never really did say," he replied after much thought.

Dumbledore had finally gotten the hall to quiet down and they all looked back up at him. "Severus Snape has also graciously offered to take the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts."

There was another rush of whispers and not so quiet outcries.

"What?! No!" Harry groaned.

"That git can't teach!" Ron groaned back.

Hermione stayed quiet, observing Dumbledore carefully.

The headmaster waited for silence again and then continued. "I need all 6th and 7th years to adjourn to the first empty classroom on the first floor after we finish here. Prefects and Head Boy and Girl, your jobs tonight will be handed over to the Ghosts of your houses. And I believe that's all for tonight. Let us all sing the school song before we depart to our slumber."

And with that, Dumbledore counted down and they all sang, the tone horribly off, but enjoying themselves just the same. Though the three kept sending glances to each other and Dumbledore, wondering what it was that he wanted to speak to them about.

---

Harry entered the classroom with Ron and Hermione, as well as countless other students. Used mainly for O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams, this was the largest classroom in the school, and was filled with enough desks for several hundred students. Professor McGonagall was already at the head of the room, giving instructions repeatedly as more and more people piled into the room.

"6th years on the left side of the room, 7th years on the right!" she shouted to be heard over the chaos of after-dinner conversations.

Walking over to three open desks to their left, Harry asked Ron and Hermione, "Any idea what all of this is for?" The summons to this room after dinner was a welcome distraction from his embarrassment over what had delayed him on the train, and Harry wanted to involve his closest friends in a conversation before they could start asking about it again.

"Dunno," replied Ron, glancing around the room. "They've never had an announcement like that at dinner before…have they?" he looked at Hermione.

"Honestly, you haven't paid enough attention over the last five years to know whether they've called all of the 6th and 7th year students somewhere after the banquet before?" Hermione sighed. "This is the first time they've done it while we've been here, and I haven't heard of it ever being done before. _Hogwarts, A History_ claims to cover every tradition at the school, so I can't imagine this not being mentioned if it had been done before."

Harry looked at her in bemusement. She referenced the history book on several occasions each year, and it seemed like this was going to be no exception. His thoughts turned to the future, as they so often had since the end of the last school year. Forcing his thoughts away from those events and onto thoughts that he somehow found more pleasant, he suggested, "Maybe it has something to do with Voldemort." He rolled his eyes in frustration as Ron jumped and Hermione cringed.

"Maybe," Ron said doubtfully, "But wouldn't they be a little more selective about it than all 6th and 7th years? They could've at least told the Slytherins to stay out..." he trailed off with a glare at the nearest green tie he could see.

"Ron, they're not all evil. Weren't you listening last year when Dumbledore said that we need inter-house unity?" Hermione admonished, then turned to Harry. "You might be right, Harry, Dumbledore did seem to like the idea of the DA last year. Maybe he wants to do that on a bigger scale."

Harry was paying little attention to their comments, instead glaring at the back of Draco Malfoy's blonde head with hatred. In case the end of the train ride to Hogwarts had slipped his mind, he now had a smirking, drawling reminder only two rows ahead of him.

Ron's concerned voice broke through his thoughts as he said, "Harry? You okay, mate?"

Even as his face reddened slightly, he turned to Ron with an almost real smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Ron seemed satisfied and turned away, but unfortunately Hermione was much more observant. "Harry, what's wrong? What happened on the train ride? You've been acting strange since you got to dinner."

"Nothing's wrong. I'll tell you later," he muttered, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't want to look at her or Ron, and looking at Malfoy only made him more embarrassed and angry.

McGonagall came to Harry's rescue, calling for their attention from the front. "The Headmaster will be here momentarily to explain the purpose of this meeting, and you will then be divided up according to your year and your choices during last year's career advice session."

Murmurs began throughout the room as soon as she finished speaking. Harry was left with no more an idea of what the meeting would be about than he had before McGonagall had started speaking, and it seemed as though the rest of the room agreed. He glanced at Hermione questioningly to see if she'd noticed something everyone else had missed, but she shook her head. Harry sighed and looked back to the front of the room, determinedly keeping his gaze far away from Malfoy. The quiet chatter went on for several more minutes, then Harry spotted Dumbledore enter through a side door near the front of the classroom. He paused for a moment to speak with McGonagall, then stepped forward and gestured for silence.

"I know you're all very curious by now exactly why it is that you have been called here, and I can see from your faces that some of you are nervous." Locking eyes with different people around the room, one of which Harry was sure had to be Neville, he continued, "Let me assure you, this meeting is not about anything dangerous. There will be other times for discussing Voldemort and how we will prepare every student here to fight or flee as their hearts see fit.

"It is my hope that you will take this at least as seriously as you would anything to do with the war. Any training you receive regarding Voldemort and others who wish to bring death to our doorstep will be important, but what we discuss tonight is in preparation for life. There will of course be training for the former, and," he paused for a moment, looking around the room.

"I suppose it's only fair that you be the first students to know, since we're keeping you so busy on your first night back. I've no doubt that many of you have heard of an underground Defense Against the Dark Arts group known as Dumbledore's Army in which a few students, whose names will not be mentioned, began teaching students what they could not learn in normal classes last year. I am pleased to inform all of you that that will change."

Many students looked concerned or upset, and Harry, Ron and Hermione cast worried glances at each other. They had planned on starting the DA again, and had not expected Dumbledore's opposition. With a small smile, the Headmaster continued, "This year, Dumbledore's Army will be completely sanctioned, and I will be present to assist in teaching on occasion." Harry's mouth fell open, and he stared at Dumbledore in amazement. After a few seconds of shock, during which the rest of the room had a similar reaction, many of the students began to cheer. Harry grinned broadly at his closest friends, his embarrassment and the summer's misery forgotten. Hermione was practically jumping up and down in her seat at the thought of being taught by Dumbledore, and for once Harry couldn't blame her for being excited about a lesson. After several minutes the crowd quieted, waiting for the rest of the explanation.

"While the students leading the organization last year did so admirably, the size of the DA, as it was and will be known by its members, will be much larger this year and require more assistance. Certain professors possessing firsthand experience dealing with Voldemort and his followers will prepare lessons to give you on practical defense, and other lessons will be spent practicing spells and counter-spells while the teachers move among you, lending aid where needed.

"But, all of that is still some time away, and now that I have completely distracted all of you by mentioning it, back to the topic at hand. Training you for battle is not enough," Dumbledore's voice became stern, "The school would have done all of you the gravest injustice and sent out into the world a generation of witches and wizards whose final years of education were focused solely on conflict. That is something Hogwarts will not stand for. There is so much to life beyond the coming battles, and it is equally important that you be prepared to live your lives as it is to know how to defend them."

His tone softening again and his eyes twinkling with a hidden smile, he said, "I believe this is enough suspense for you for one evening. For those of you familiar with the Muggle way of life, think of it as an internship or community service. Throughout the school year, you will be scheduling times to participate in an area of study related to your chosen career through which you will help a community. That community will _not_ be Hogwarts. Some of you have spent 5 years here already, others, 6. Many of you have seen little outside of the school and your own community at home.

"Therefore, each student will be working with a team in a community that none of the members of that team have any experience with. Some of these projects will require you to interact constantly with people unlike any you have encountered, and others will require you to strain your wits and abilities in order to come up with solutions. You will receive more details in small groups where all of your questions will be answered."

Harry noticed McGonagall's gaze directed towards them and thought for a moment that she was looking at him. Then he realized that it was Hermione she was looking at so intently, as if admonishing her to pay very close attention to the next part of the speech. "You will be given the chance to speak with someone about changing your career path, both before and after completing the requirements you have signed up for, should any of you wish to deviate from your decision last year."

Chatter erupted instantly, the majority of the students assuming the speech was over. Hundreds of students were discussing each of the topics that had been brought up, from the new and improved DA to what they wanted to do with their lives to which career would have the most exciting destinations for community service.

"One last thing before we split up," Dumbledore's voice boomed out over the crowd, silencing them instantly. "Houses will play no part in this; in all likelihood, you will be working mostly with people from a different House. As I said last year and the Sorting Hat repeated at dinner, we must now unite against the threat posed by Voldemort. He will seize any difference between us and try to force us apart because he knows we can be destroyed that way. The only way to stand firm against those attacks is to accept the differences between us and know that we have far more significant things in common.

"But there is more to unity than standing together through a trial such as this. When the danger has passed, we cannot return to the old prejudice based on the House a, may it forgive me, rather ancient hat has decided that each person belongs in. There are no straight divides among you; within each Slytherin, there is a little Hufflepuff, a little Gryffindor, and a little Ravenclaw. Within each Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor, it is the same. You all possess the traits for each house in varying degrees. No one house is better than any other. Traditions at the school have kept you in tight competition during your time here, and I fear the effects it may have later. Will you spend the rest of your lives hating one another because it is expected of you? Or will you step beyond this and stretch your hand to take one that you never expected to find reaching out for yours?"

Harry listened intently throughout Dumbledore's speech; he usually ignored them and got the short version from Hermione later on, but once Voldemort was mentioned, his attention was riveted. Harry was not surprised by the Headmaster's call for unity; his speech the previous year had followed the same idea, and the Sorting Hat had told Harry himself on two occasions that he would make a fine Slytherin. What shocked him was the fact that Dumbledore would introduce an idea like this while a war was beginning throughout the magical community. His happiness at the idea of an expanded DA evaporated quickly when he realized the amount of time this new project would take away from preparing for the fight.

Looking over at his two friends, Harry saw the reactions he expected. Hermione seemed enthralled by every word of the speech, and Harry had a feeling that she was still ecstatic over the idea of being taught by Dumbledore. Ron had an annoyed look on his face, and Harry knew the other boy did not want the additional work that the project entailed. Glancing around them, it looked as though every other person in the room was having at least one of their reactions, if not a combination.

Harry opened his mouth to tell Ron and Hermione that he thought it was a mistake to start preparing people for a life that many of them would never get a chance to lead, but McGonagall was already calling out instructions for how they would break apart, and Hermione shushed him.

"6th years come to the front of the classroom, 7th years move towards the back! Everyone who selected a Ministry-related job, move to the left side of the room. Those who chose a career in which they would be self-employed, move to the right. Others, move to the center of the room. If there is any confusion regarding which category you belong in, use your own judgment and choose whichever fits best."

The room erupted into complete chaos as students moved to find their places, most seeming curious about where they could be travelling even if they were apprehensive about the concept as a whole. Harry and Ron attempted to move to the left-front side of the room and quickly lost track of Hermione as she made her way to the center. After a moment, the two found themselves pushed to the very front of their group.

More professors had entered the room now, and they were all approaching different sections. Firenze and a female teacher Harry did not recognize were the first to make their way to the 6th years who would be self-employed, Sprout and McGonagall approached the enormous group in the center, and Flitwick moved to the front of Harry's group. Harry looked around to see who would be joining him, hoping it was Dumbledore, but the Headmaster seemed to have vanished. The crowd behind Harry parted, and he felt a thick, heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Harry, my boy!" Slughorn exclaimed. "Interested in a job at the Ministry, then?"

"Erm, yeah, as an auror," Harry replied uncomfortably. From what Harry had seen of the new Potions Master during their encounter over the summer, he expected actual answers when he asked questions; or at least, he expected them from the celebrities and students from influential families that were his obvious favorites.

"Splendid! John Dawlish was a student of mine long before he became one of the Aurors closest to the Minister himself. I'm sure he'd love a visit from me, during which I could just happen to mention that the famous Harry Potter, who is no doubt an extraordinary student, was interested in joining his office." Slughorn beamed at Harry and clapped his shoulder once more before taking his position next to Flitwick.

Harry was unsure what he had just been signed up for, but was unable to spend much time thinking about it as he, Ron, and over a dozen other 6th years were swept out of the room by Slughorn and led to a much smaller classroom.


	2. Chapter 2

The door had just shut and Hermione turned to see who had done it. McGonagall swept passed the three of them – unlike the other two groups, they had apparently only been taken inside a couple at a time. Or maybe it had only been the three of them, since they had been pulled out quite specifically it had seemed to Hermione.

A boy Hermione recognized as a Hufflepuff named Paul Tarne from her Ancient Runes class, who actually seemed very intelligent, was there, and also, Malfoy, who was staring at McGonagall with disinterest.

McGonagall looked at them all for a moment as she reached the head of the classroom. They all held their breath, waiting for what was to come. Finally, McGonagall placed a hand on the desk in front of her and started on them.

"Miss Granger, your current career choice is Activist in the area of Elf Rights, am I correct?"

"Yes. But not just the House Elves, I want to help all oppressed races that wizard's have been-"

"Mr. Tarne, your current career choice is Thestral Trainer?

"Yes, Professor," the boy replied timidly, obviously concerned about what was coming next. He had long brown hair that hung just below his chin, and was incredibly skinny, also, what Ron would have called, a geek.

"Mr. Malfoy, yours is currently, Lobbyist, correct?"

With a subtle glare he nodded and said, "Yes, Professor."

Immediately following his response McGonagall straightened, her towering stern face giving each of them a disappointed annoyed glance. "Have any of you heard of RAMK?" Her face calmed but a bit, but still Hermione felt strained to get whatever she asked exactly correct.

Unfortunately, she had never heard of this, and wondered what this had to do with their career choice. And also wondered why the three of them, with quite different career choices had been put together. She didn't even have time to be frustrated at the fact that she was likely working with Malfoy, because she was far too absorbed in what was happening.

Neither Malfoy nor Tarne answered, and McGonagall didn't wait long for their answers, as if not expecting them to have them. "They are modern alchemists. What they do is the funded portion of alchemy, called Research for the Advancement of Magical Knowledge.

"They research magic and its components, breaking apart spells, potions, magical items, and the sorts. For example, a current development underway called Project Paine, is being done to find a proper counter spell to the Cruciatus curse. They will learn every aspect of this spell, break it down, find out what exactly it does, and what it affects, and then go about the process of finding something that counters it.

"Albus Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel worked as Alchemists some time ago, and one of the creations that they came up with through their research was called the Philosopher's Stone, now destroyed and gone; but these are just a few of the things that Alchemists in RAMK work towards." McGonagall studied them hard for a moment, letting the information sink in.

Hermione's head was rolling in a buzz of excitement, but also, tension. She couldn't help but understand what exactly McGonagall was trying to get at. Why was everyone always trying to make her decision that much harder?

Though, she had never considered Alchemy before. It was a fascinating subject that truly let Hermione utilize all of her abilities; for it was a path that involved almost all fields of study, and higher thinking knowledge and assessments. What else could Hermione do best?

"Professor-" Tarne started before Hermione could have, though she had been right about to.

"-Please wait, Mr. Tarne," McGonagall silenced. "I am aware that you three are very adamant about your career choices. But I will be very blunt in saying that they are below you. Your skills would be better put to use in something useful and extraordinary, like yourselves. There are so few students that I watch come through Hogwarts doors with talent like yours, and I will not sit back and see you waste it.

"Therefore, as it is my job to see you through your community service, and since your required fields require little in the way of real firsthand studying, I am requiring the three of you to participate in service to RAMK for a great portion of your time.

"If, by the end of these months your decision is to change your career to something worth your time, I will eagerly be willing to do so. If not, then I will acknowledge defeat and let you carry on as you see fit."

Hermione wanted to protest, particularly about the part where McGonagall had labeled her field of study as requiring 'little in the way of real first hand studying'. There was a lot as far as she could see. For instance, getting to know the oppressed to learn how they dealt with their oppression, and to see why it is was that they are oppressed in the first place to learn what could be done about it.

Though, then again, that was likely not something she would have to do till she had entered the career.

She also wanted to protest that McGonagall had no right to try to force them into another career path. But McGonagall had made it very clear that it was really up to them after the service was over, meaning that if it _really _was their hearts desire it wouldn't matter what they did in those months, the work they did wouldn't phase it.

Paul seemed to be thinking along the same lines because he was staring at McGonagall, a look of deep seated thought and unhappiness etched on his face, though he didn't say a word. Malfoy just stood there, looking at Professor McGonagall with unamused displeasure, his arms folded across his chest.

There was silence for a long while, the air filled with uneasiness. Hermione couldn't think of anything to say, so she was waiting for McGonagall to explain what happens next.

"No objections I see," she said swiftly, "Well, in that case. Your first day starts on Monday. I will send you a calendar with all of the events, and you will be scheduled more as time goes on. The three of you will be working together a great deal of the time, so I suggest that you work out any disputes you have before you begin."

Hermione looked to the blonde, whose scowl was eminent across his face. She seethed dislike at him inwardly, knowing full well that what McGonagall had asked would be next to impossible, for the both of them. It wasn't that she necessarily _hated_ Malfoy, often she more pitied him than anything, but she could hardly begin to ever like him. He was just plain foul to get on with, and not worth the energy wasted trying.

He didn't look at her, just as she had expected, but Hermione wondered what he was thinking of the whole thing. And also, wondered at the same time, what in the world he had been up to in Knockturn Alley that day. She knew that herself, like Harry, was very suspicious, though Hermione wasn't very concerned until whatever it was proved itself to be dangerous in some way. Malfoy looked exhausted, the look masked from the simple airs that Malfoy always put on. The snobbish, dangerous, arrogant airs that were quite simply Malfoy, and hard to see past. But Hermione was far too good at reading people, Malfoy or not. She studied him a bit longer, wondering what he was planning or doing, and looked quickly back to McGonagall as she cleared her throat; Hermione making a mental note of Malfoy's status as she listened intently.

"Also, Professor Dumbledore has taken an interest to giving a helping hand to you three on occasion at RAMK. And wants you to know that he is eager to answer any question you have regarding the subject at any time, seeing that it is also convenient for him. You can visit him in his office any time you are in need."

At this, Hermione lit up. Working alongside Albus Dumbledore in alchemy? She had to hold down a squeal of excitement and bounced on the balls of her feet. She couldn't believe it! The man was simply a genius, and to be able to work with him in his chosen field of study was beyond a privilege. She knew it was going to be a remarkable learning year.

"Any questions?"

---

Ron followed Harry through the portrait and into the Gryffindor Common Room, where they found Hermione waiting.

"How did it go?" she asked quickly, before either of them could open their mouths to ask her the same question.

"He's a git," Ron said flatly, flopping down into his favorite chair by the fire.

Harry looked at him sympathetically, but Ron ignored it. He felt like an outcast now more than he had in his entire time at Hogwarts. He was used to being in Harry's shadow at this point, but it was different when a teacher was the one completely ignoring him.

Hermione looked back and forth between them. "What happened?"

Ron heard Harry sigh and sink into a chair across from Hermione and turned a little so that he could see them. "We ended up with Slughorn," his friend explained. "Ron's right, he's a complete git. He didn't tell us anything about the project, just start rambling about Doll-something and how good of a student he'd been and how he helped him get into the ministry. After that, it sounded like he was saying he wanted us to go work at the ministry all year or something. Then he went through everyone in the room and asked about their families. Reckon he was looking for anyone with a famous name or loads of money."

Ron looked stonily into the fire, hardly noticing the glance his friend shot him. Harry's voice was so low Ron could barely hear it as he said, "He didn't even say a word to Ron, just looked at him and turned away. He talked to pretty much everyone else in the room…"

Ron thought that he might hate Slughorn nearly as much as Snape after that meeting. He would prefer a droning lecture from Binns over being treated like that any day, or even detention. The one time the new teacher's gaze fell on Ron, he could've sworn he saw classic Slytherin disdain on his face before he moved on to another student.

Harry had mentioned over the summer that Dumbledore had warned him about how Slughorn liked to be the power behind the throne, but Ron hadn't realized that meant he would be treated with such complete indifference the entire time he was in the room. He wondered if Dumbledore really had lost it, going on and on about unifying the school or something like that in his speech, then hiring a new professor who judged his students on their last name. He had spent his whole life in the shadows cast by his brothers, prefects and head boys and the school comedians, and had thought that maybe he'd be able to at least do something special as an auror.

"I'm sorry, Ron," Hermione's voice came. "He sounds horrible. I don't know why in the world Dumbledore would let him teach."

He looked over at her, cheered a bit by her compassion. "Yeah, he is. Dumbledore's completely off his rocker." Talking to Hermione often seemed to lighten Ron's foul moods, or at least it did when a fight with her wasn't the cause of his mood. "So who did you get?"

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione replied, staring into space suddenly.

"What did she say you're gonna be doing?"

"Erm, well, she said…" Hermione seemed flustered and made an irritated noise. "She told me that wanting to be an activist for the rights of magical beings wasn't good enough and that I would be wasting my potential. She's making me do the requirements for RAMK instead because she says there isn't much to do for being an activist, and she's going to ask again what I want my career to be after the year is over. And it sounds like she wants me to spend most of the year away from the school, off with Malfoy and Paul Tarne."

Ron felt his ears grow hot at Malfoy's name. "Why do you have to work with that slime? McGonagall can't possibly think he has the same potential as you, Hermione. Have all of the professors gone mad this year?"

Hermione's face flushed slightly, and Ron wondered if she was as angry as he was that she would have to spend so much time with Malfoy.

"Dumbledore must've really meant it about breaking down house barriers this year if we're both stuck with Slytherins," Harry said.

"He's gone mental if he thinks we're all going to just get along," Ron commented, then asked "What's RAMK?"

Hermione's annoyed expression was gradually replaced with one of enthusiasm as she said, "Researchers for the Advancement of Magical Knowledge. McGonagall says that they're modern alchemists, and learn what magic really is and how to make it do new things. She says they're working on a counter to the Cruciatus Curse right now, and break apart spells all the time to find out how they work and what parts they can change to make them more powerful. This is the kind of research that changes the magical world completely, and helps everyone live better lives. It's something Dumbledore himself is really interested in, he might even be coming with us for part of it and stopping by once in a while," she finished happily.

"Uh, weren't you just angry that McGonagall was making you do it…?" Ron asked, confused by her sudden change in mood.

Harry quickly said "Alchemy is what Dumbledore did with Nicholas Flamel, to make the Philosopher's Stone, right?"

Hermione looked like she had been about to speak, and from her expression it would have been something angry, but instead she responded to Harry. "Yes, it is. From what I read about alchemists in the Muggle world and during first year, creating the Philosopher's Stone was their goal for centuries. People started to give up on the subject over the years as failure after failure was announced, but I think that their success in making it brought back peoples' interest."

"It sounds exciting," Harry said with what Ron suspected was forced enthusiasm.

"Mmhmm," she agreed, then whatever else she was going to say was cut off by a yawn.

"Tired?" Ron asked.

"A bit."

"It has been a long day," Harry commented, and then looked suddenly rather red and pale at the same time.

Ron then realized Harry hadn't yet told them what had happened on the train.

It was Hermione who asked and Harry looked very put on the spot and finally told them what had happened and what he had heard. Ron groaned and said darkly, "Malfoy is a complete prat."

"Are you sure he wasn't just showing off for Parkinson, Harry?" Hermione asked skeptically.

"Are you kidding? Who's to say that Voldemort doesn't want someone on the inside of Hogwarts to keep tabs."

Ron and Hermione both flinched. Ron hated it when Harry did that, he wasn't even sure if he did it just to get a reaction sometimes. But even to Ron, Harry's story about Draco being part of some big conspiracy seemed ludicrous – well, not completely so, Malfoy was definitely evil, but the boy seemed incapable for a job that big.

Harry made a frustrated strangled noise and stood up, clearly annoyed that they didn't believe him.

"Harry-" Hermione tried to calm him.

"Whatever guys, we'll talk about this another time. 'Night." And Harry stormed off.

Ron shook his head and Hermione sighed. "Maybe it's not completely a crazy idea," Ron suggested in defense of his friend.

Hermione bit her lip. "Maybe not completely, but going after Malfoy like that is going to get him killed."

"You don't think Malfoy would –"

"I have no idea if he's capable. I would just rather Harry not risk it."

Ron nodded in agreement. It was only a matter of getting Harry to agree as well. They both sat in silence, and finally Ron yawned.

"We should probably go to bed," Hermione suggested.

"Alright." Ron stood up and stretched. "'Night 'Mione."

"See you in the morning," she responded, heading to the girls' dormitories.

Ron made his way to the room they shared with Seamus, Dean, and Neville, all of whom were already fast asleep. He changed and got into bed quickly, pulling the curtains shut around him.

---

A hand drummed along a chair, fingers taping in rhythm, getting more incessant each moment.

"Crabbe, knock it off," Draco Malfoy hissed. He had been lost in thought until so rudely jarred from it, and realized his groupies were still talking about the day's events around him.

His groupies consisted of Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise Zabini, and Millicent Bulstrode. But there around the common room was also Theodore Nott, who seemed to be there only because he had been reading by the fire when they had all come in, and seemed stuck between Crabbe and Goyle, who he would have had to push passed or ask them, to get through, and It seemed the boy had his wits about him so he had stayed put, ignoring the quite pointed looks of distrust and dislike that came in his direction from the whole lot of them.

Crabbe had stopped drumming immediately, his hands clasping in his lap awkwardly, looking like a scolded puppy.

"-So, it wasn't so horrible," Pansy continued, as if there had been no interruption. "Which teacher did you get, Draco?"

Barely rising his head up, he looked at her, her bright smile a little too much for him to take in, so he looked beyond her. "McGonagall."

"That old hag!" Millicent declared. "How was it?"

"That sounds awful Draco, what did she say?" Pansy said over Millicent.

"She just said I would be gone a lot for my career, there's a ton of stuff that she wants me to do," Draco replied shortly. "How about you Blaise?"

"It wasn't too bad, Slughorn again, showering me and Potter and even Nott over there with complete adoration." Blaise gave a dirty look to Theodore and continued, "At least he's got one of us right, but it won't take too long to prove. Potter can't do anything in potions to save his life."

Draco nodded with a smirk and a satisfaction that he was right. Crabbe and Goyle chortled with laughter and Millicent and Pansy laughed amused. Though the four of them were hardly capable at their own potion making.

"That fucking 'Savior' business is really getting on my nerves," Blaise went on. "Seriously, the only thing he's capable of is Quidditch. And that's hardly a skill that's going to save you in a war. How the hell is he going to be a 'Savior'? The Dark Lord's not going to have any problem taking care of him when the time comes."

The silence that followed was the awkward one that always did. The question of how Harry had survived up until then. About how many times he had escaped. But no one was allowed to address it, so they pondered in silence. Draco figured it was Dumbledore. The man that seemed to be always right by Harry's side – or bed side, as it happened – whenever he was taken into the clutches of the Dark Lord.

"It's appalling to listen to," Draco finally broke the silence.

`"Dreadful," Pansy concurred.

"Oh, Draco," Blaise started, "I mentioned your name to Slughorn today, he practically scampered off away from me as soon as I had said it."

"Huh." Draco tilted his head. Maybe, then, it was his father's reputation as a known Death Eater. That could be the only explanation. "Must not think Father is good connection since he came out openly. Spineless if you ask me, just like Karkoroff. But they'll get what's coming to them."

"They better," Blaise agreed.

Theodore Nott, who seemed bored with their conversation, had opened up his book again, and it made a loud noise as he turned the page. All heads turned to him.

"What are you doing in here?" Goyle asked as if he had just noticed him. Immediately the two ogre's backs straightened and their looks turned menacing.

Slowly and cautiously Theo's head rose as he looked to Crabbe, who he had assumed had spoken. Which luckily, thought Draco, was not the gravest mistake to make, since the two would often mistake each other. It was lucky, because he didn't particularly like to watch the stupidity of the fights that happened with these two. It was only when Crabbe and Goyle used their brute strength to aid him that he could tolerate it.

"He was just leaving," Draco growled very quickly. "Let him through."

Pansy looked at him and groaned, "Oh Draco, you're no fun." She knew that Draco was avoiding the brawl.

Theo quickly seized his opportunity and carefully moved his way passed the two, who elbowed him as he made his way past, but did nothing else.

"I should think you'd want to see those who deserve it get what's coming to them," Blaise said with a smirk and Draco knew he wasn't altogether joking around. Blaise was the only one that wasn't completely at his command, and therefore annoyed Draco whenever the other felt like doing things like this, or pointing out that his logic made no sense when most wouldn't have even realized it.

"He's a Slytherin," Draco drawled. "It's imbecilic to beat up our own housemates for fun. Even if they are disgusting and belong in Hufflepuff."

"What is with him?" Pansy asked after he was out of earshot.

"Doesn't feel he's good enough for the rest of us," Millicent said nastily.

"Why's he in Slytherin again?"

"Beats me," Draco drawled. "What did he say to Slughorn?"

"Practically nothing, ambitious my arse. The guy's not going anywhere with his attitude."

"That's ridiculous," Pansy moaned. Suddenly as if hit by a realization, her face fell and she looked to Draco expectantly. "Draco! Does this mean you won't be here to play on the Quidditch team anymore? If you're busy all year, I mean."

"I-" he paused. He hadn't really thought about it. "Probably, I guess."

"Ooh," Pansy said disappointed. "That's not fair. I like watching you, you're so good."

Blaise sniggered and Draco fought to ignore it, instead focusing on not being able to play again. Did he care? No, he supposed he didn't. He had far too much else to focus on than Quidditch.

"Why aren't you going to play?" Goyle asked, quite confused.

Draco rolled his eyes and reserved himself to his thoughts as Millicent and Pansy tried to explain it to him. When they had finished, Draco stood up and merely said, "I'm going to bed." Then he strolled though the common room, hearing Pansy's hurt 'Goodnight', behind him. He decided on getting her a nice jacket to make up for it – she tended to go on about these things until he made it up.

When he reached his dormitory, he quickly changed, threw the curtains closed and crashed down into his bed, eyes stuck open and sleep failing to arrive.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Hermione led the way into the Transfiguration classroom, walking rapidly in spite of being there several minutes early. She sat down in the first row, not glancing at Harry or Ron as they took the seats beside her.

"Hermione, do we really have to sit in the front row on the first day?" Ron complained.

She ignored him, as well as Harry's words of agreement, and was quickly lost in her own thoughts. They had just finished Potions, and Hermione had found herself completely unprepared for something in class. It was not the new professor; Slughorn's favoritism was a marked improvement over Snape's, because he actually required his students to be proficient in order to earn his praise. Rather, it was the way one of his favorites was acting throughout class and after that had left Hermione in such a dark mood.

Harry Potter had outdone her. In _Potions_, of all classes. The thought would have been laughable and earned a scoff from Hermione at its impossibility any other day. She knew from a glance at his textbook that Harry had not done so well because the talent Slughorn was so sure he would have suddenly manifested itself. That used and battered book had been annotated and had every remotely interesting potion rewritten by someone who was extraordinarily gifted at the subject. The confused shock and frustration that floored Hermione when the professor had awarded him the tiny bottle of Felix Felicis as a prize for creating the best Draught of Living Death in the class had subsided when she realized it wasn't really Harry beating her. Or at least, it did a little.

It wasn't that she thought of him, or even Ron for that matter, as being stupid or unintelligent. She was just very accustomed to the idea of being the best, and she worked hard to keep it that way. Much of the work Hermione put in to classes was because she honestly wanted to learn, but she knew that part of it was the desire to be the best. That desire could keep her up late finishing an assignment for History of Magic that wasn't due for another three weeks and hadn't really been covered in class yet.

Hermione sighed, and was promptly shaken out of her thoughts as McGonagall took her position at the front of the classroom and began the lecture. For the first time at Hogwarts, she wasn't interested in paying attention to the lecture. Instead, she stared at the front of the classroom, assuming the appearance of paying attention that she had watched Harry and Ron master over the years. She trusted that between both of their notes and the book, the information from the lecture wouldn't be too difficult to handle; if it was, she could always ask one of the Ravenclaws in the class for more useful notes during lunch sometime.

The problem wasn't really that Harry had made a better potion than she had; even when she was upset, the logical part of Hermione's mind eventually took over, and the fact was that he had been given a better recipe and set of instructions than she had. There was another dimension to her frustration over the class; she had wanted the Felix Felicis for herself. Hermione had thrown herself into making the potion not to earn Slughorn's favor, but to…

She cringed inwardly at her thoughts, and glared at Harry out of the corners of her eyes. She knew he guessed how she felt about Ron from comments he made and looks he gave them both, but it seemed he didn't care enough for her as a friend to help her, or at least not get in the way, when she had an opportunity to make the tall redhead notice her as something more than a walking encyclopedia.

How could Harry take the potion from her, especially when he hadn't really earned it? Even if he kept the book a secret from Slughorn and didn't admit to why his potion had been so perfect, Harry could have just given her the prize for making the best one honestly. Or as a "thank you" for not turning the book in as the dark magic item it probably was. After all, the last mysterious book on the school grounds had nearly killed Ron's sister, and indirectly left Hermione in the hospital wing for weeks.

Hermione refused to ask him for it. She was far too proud for what would feel like begging, no matter how she felt. Ron never seemed to notice that one of his best friends was a girl, let alone one who had been falling for him for years. The only time he ever paid attention to the matter was when she had gone with Viktor to the Yule Ball two years ago, and that had only ended in yet another fight between the two.

With a slight start, Hermione realized that class was ending. She had spent the entire time lost in her thoughts and hadn't the slightest idea what Professor McGonagall had been talking about. As she stuffed her things into her bag, the woman's voice made her wish she could sink into the stone floor beneath her seat.

"Miss Granger, please remain seated." Her voice was the same as when she was preparing to lecture someone for not paying attention, and Hermione braced herself for that as the room quickly emptied. Harry and Ron cast sympathetic glances at her as they left; both had been on the receiving end of those talks before, and they were far from pleasant.

"Yes, Professor?" Hermione said timidly.

"Have you given any thought to what I told you last night?" she began crisply, ignoring the fact that the girl before her had paid little or no attention throughout the entire class. Hermione wasn't sure if this was a good or bad thing yet, or even whether the professor had noticed, but at least she wasn't being yelled at.

"Of course, Professor. I think it sounds like an interesting project for the year, though I don't plan on changing my career," Hermione replied, choosing her words carefully. She didn't want to give McGonagall the impression that she was already thinking about how interesting, exciting, and fulfilling work at RAMK could be.

"I'm glad you're interested, but that is not what I was referring to. Have you spoken to Mr. Malfoy about working alongside one another?"

Hermione stared at her, almost at a loss for words. "I hadn't, really. I mean, I thought about it, of course…"

As she trailed off, McGonagall explained, "I am counting on you to be able to coexist with Mr. Malfoy. He is a promising student, I assure you, regardless of whatever impressions he has made on you in the past. Given the chance, I think that the two of you will be an effective team. So, consider your first assignment for RAMK to be learning how to work with your colleagues."

Hermione wanted to ask how in the world she was supposed to get along with Malfoy, and how he could be persuaded to work as part of any team that didn't involve him leading it. She also wanted to protest that she would never hold a team back from achieving something, no matter how unpleasant she found its members. Instead, she simply said, "I understand, Professor."

McGonagall nodded and replied, "Then you may go. Good luck, Miss Granger. I don't expect this to be easy for you, but I trust that you are more than capable."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said, and quickly gathered the rest of her things and left the classroom in a hurry towards Ancient Runes so as not to be late.

Corridors passed in a blur as she thought about the instructions she'd been given. She did not despise Malfoy as Ron and Harry did, but she hardly wanted to have a conversation with someone who hated her and insulted her at every opportunity. And there was Ron to consider, and how he would react if he saw them talking. He would be furious and consider it a betrayal for any Gryffindor to actually talk to a Slytherin; she didn't want to think about how angry he would be if it were one of his best friends.

Arriving at the door to her last class of the day far sooner than her mind could arrive at a solution to any of the problems in her mind, Hermione took a deep breath and resolved not to waste another class by ignoring the lecture. Besides, Ancient Runes was taken only by the brightest and most enthusiastic students; she would have competition for the top spot in this class and could not afford to be distracted.

---

Ancient Runes had just let out and the class was making their way down the spiral stairs of the tower. Hermione had spotted Malfoy ahead and she was doing some serious contemplation. She needed to talk to him, as soon as possible preferably, but she still pondered the trouble of if she should tell Ron or Harry before she did.

She knew that Harry would most likely encourage the idea, since that would mean getting someone with an eye on him for even a moment of time. But, as much as she hated the pettiness, she wasn't happy with him at the moment, and telling him would only make her more frustrated with him. And telling Ron...Well, that was a bad idea all on its own. He would never let her do it and she didn't want to get into a fight over something she had to do, to at least tell McGonagall she had tried, for Merlin knew it wasn't going to be easy.

She gave up thoughts before she ran out of time and hurried forward. "Malfoy!"

He stopped and turned, a grimace gracing his face as he realized it was her. "What is it, Granger? Come to lecture me again on my abandoned Prefect duties?"

Hermione gave a huge inward sigh and thought, _Here we go_. "Do you remember what Professor McGonagall said about working out any disputes we have before we begin?"

The blonde gave her an incredulous look. "You've got to be kidding me, Granger. Like I could ever get on with a Mud-blood or a Hufflepuff, bullocks."

Hermione's fists tightened and she had to roll her eyes. He was disgusting. She took another deep breath, an audible one this time and said with irritation, "Malfoy, we have to work together. This isn't something like potions class where we can just ignore each other through our work. We have to be working side-by-side with very complicated methods. If you can't get along than McGonagall is going to fail us all and you're not going to graduate or ever become a lobbyist."

Hermione could almost see him visibly hide a snigger and watched him look over her shoulder.

"Crabbe, Goyle, there you two are."

Hermione gulped, hoping he was kidding, she turned and saw the two ogre's making their way very slowly up the stairs and looking more pissed off each second. They finally reached the top and saw the two of them.

"What the hell are you doing still up here Draco?" one of them whined more than it was serious anger.

"She bothering you?"

Hermione whimpered and pondered her choices which seemed to be either flee up the stairs in cowardice or be at Draco's mercy... The stairs didn't sound half bad.

Malfoy turned to her. He knew perfectly well that she could curse them far faster than they could get a hold of her, but also knowing that would be her absolute last resort, since she hated using magic in corridors, particularly against students. Though her inhibitions since first year had gone a bit, she was still very much a rule follower on most occasions.

"We're done? Yeah? Okay," he said very smugly, then to Crabbe and Goyle he replied, "Only every moment she lives. Come on." And he started down the stairs, Crabbe and Goyle followed almost immediately, their conversation drowned by more students leaving classes.

Hermione groaned, she really didn't like those two, and Malfoy was now really starting to get on her last nerves. She started towards the great hall after she was sure they were a decent length. People from paintings followed with her down, as if waiting to tell the latest gossip to their friends. She shook her head.

When she reached the hall she found Ron and Harry and sat across from them.

"Hey," Ron said disgruntled.

"You look beat," Harry noted.

Hermione looked at him, decided she would rather not speak to him and turned to the food in front of her, though she was far from hungry.

"How was class?" she asked Ron, wondering what was up.

"Alright," Ron said, obviously having just shared a glance with Harry. "What's the matter, Hermione?"

"I had a run in with Crabbe and Goyle," she said, looking at him only and off his look, said, "I'm fine though. They're idiots so it hardly took much to get around them."

Ron nodded in agreement, studying her harder, and she felt herself blush from his concern. "What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he finally said, and looked back towards Harry, picking up a conversation they clearly had been having. "If Slughorn is going to have another conversation with all his hand chosen favorites I swear I'm out of there."

"What happened?" Hermione interrupted again.

"It seems Slughorn just figured out he didn't actually tell us what we would be doing and so he called another meeting for tonight after dinner."

"Oh." Hermione frowned. She didn't like the way Slughorn was treating Ron at all. It wasn't like he was completely talentless...he just didn't seem to excel in anything particular.

"I hate him," Ron said angrily at his plate, stabbing something. "At least you aren't in his group too," he said, indicating her. "I wouldn't even get a glance. Though potions is exactly like that. He's a stupid worthless git," Ron continued to grumble.

"Ron, he really is, but you need to not be so hard on yourself, he doesn't know talent when he sees it."

Harry shot her a look but she ignored it, staring at Ron, who didn't seem at all pleased by this.

"Oh what do you know?" Ron growled. "You never have to try to be seen. Neither of you do!"

"Ron…" Harry started, silenced by Hermione's glare.

"He's right," Hermione started. "We don't have to try. But Ron, that doesn't mean that you are any less talented. Harry only gets his attention because…well, it's not because of any talent, really…Oh Harry, shush, you know it's true-"

Harry interrupted, a little disgruntled, "-Hermione, I know I have no special talent or anything. I was just going to say that. Ron, you and I do the same in classes. Slughorn will realize soon enough that we have the same ambitions."

With a heavy sigh, Ron stared down at his plate. "Doubt it," he sounded less frustrated.

Hermione gazed at him and could tell that Ron wanted to believe him. Hermione bit her lip, frustrated that she couldn't have brought him to reason when Harry so easily could.

"You should talk to Slughorn about it if it keeps up Ron. You shouldn't have to deal with him on top of all the other work we have to do."

Ron looked at her, eyes wide in terror. Harry gave her the same look.

"Are you mental?" Ron asked. "I'm not going to _talk_ to him." He glanced at Harry. "Would be suicide, that's what that is."

"Are you feeling okay, Hermione?" Harry asked, and she could tell it was more of a question of why she was ignoring him.

"I'm fine. I'm going to the library." She stood, not waiting for reaction and half-way across the hall heard Ginny ask the two boys:

"What did you guys do?"

---

Students filled Slughorn's classroom, all twenty-three of them. Harry and Ron were at the front of the room, waiting impatiently for the meeting to start so they could leave. Harry would have rather had any other teacher leading their group, well, anyone but Snape.

"Sorry I'm late everyone," Slughorn called over the tops of everyone's head. "I got caught up talking to a charming young girl over her splendid Wailing Siren Jinx."

Harry looked at his best friend and the two rolled their eyes.

"At any rate, let's begin." He made his way through the students and stood in front of his class gazing out excitedly. "What you are actually going to be doing. Today I will split you into three groups. Starting in a week, two groups will be staying here in the castle to talk with a few of the ministry volunteers, and one will be going to the ministry itself for a hands on experience. You will rotate every week. Later you will split off into more refined groups related to your field of study. " He clapped his hands together and smiled. "Any questions?"

No one said anything.

"Very well." He stepped closer to the students. "Groups then. Everyone crowd into the middle of the room please." He waved his wand and muttered something and the desks stacked up against the wall, narrowly missing all of their heads. "When I point to you, go where I tell you. If I don't point to you, stay where you are."

He glanced through the crowd, his eyes securing onto Harry and his finger landed on him. "Harry, to the right, please." Harry moved, irritated that he was the first to be called. But he avoided Ron's gaze as he moved, praying silently that Slughorn would call Ron soon and send him to the right.

"Mr. Nott, left," Slughorn said rather dismissively. "Ms. Patil, to the right if you will." Harry watched Padma approach him and she gave him a reproachful smile. Harry knew that he and Ron would never live down the Yule Ball disaster.

"Mr. Zabini, also to the right." Slughorn continued on, Harry waited on edge for Ron's direction. Harry watched as his Slughorn's thick finger wagged between Luna and Ron. "You two," he said with no regard to their names. "Over there." His finger indicated the left and then he immediately moved to the next person. Harry wanted to punch him.

Ron didn't look over, just followed Luna, looking very sulky and like he, too, wanted to punch something.

When Slughorn had finished he looked around the three groups, satisfaction across his face. "Group A will be the right, B, center, and left will be C. This coming week I believe group C will be at the ministry first. And if there are no further questions then you are all free to go."

Everyone started for the door and Harry made his way towards Ron.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered.

"Yeah. But, hey, you guys get to go to the Ministry first." Maybe, Harry thought, this was Slughorn's way of giving Ron's group a chance to prove themselves.

Ron nodded, comforted a little. "Yeah, but still…I'm stuck with Loony Luna and the Slytherin social outcast. How much worse could it get?"

"Luna's not so bad. And Nott's a prat like the rest of them, but at least he's better than Zabini."

"All Slytherin's are the same slimy gits," Ron growled. "Let's just go to bed."

"Yeah, Hermione can hear about it in the morning." His thoughts then turned troubled, wondering why Hermione had been ignoring him. "Have you noticed that she's been ignoring me at all?"

"Huh?" Ron asked, clearly quite confused.

"I think she's pissed at me for something."

"What'd you do?"

With a look of annoyance Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea."

"Girls," Ron dismissed. "I don't understand them."

"Me either."

The two reached the common room, and Ron muttered the password. The portrait swung open and they entered with the rest of their housemates into an empty common room. Both of them were surprised that Hermione wasn't waiting up for them.

"Girls," Ron muttered again, and the both of them headed up to their dormitory.

---

Draco heard the wall open to the Slytherin common room, he sighed and closed his book, readying himself to deal with Blaise and his no doubt complaints about what had happened at the meeting.

"Bloody wanker," Blaise said as he sat down beside him. "Guess what scum Slughorn put in the same league as me."

"Who?"

"Bloody Potter," Blaise scoffed. "At least Nott was paired up with Weasel and Loony, so Slughorn has some perspective on the order of things."

"It won't take Potter long to show Slughorn that he doesn't deserve any special attention. He'll be cast aside with the rest soon enough," Draco commented, feigning interest and concern. He noted the group of each person mentioned, but beyond that couldn't have cared less about who Blaise would be spending the year with.

"Hopefully. That old fool seems much too impressed by Potter making a halfway decent potion in class."

Draco nodded in agreement, inwardly puzzling over how the Savior of the World had managed to make a potion look remotely decent, let alone as perfect as it had. Even if neither he nor Blaise would ever admit it aloud, Potter's potion had looked better than the pictures in the textbook. Draco hadn't the slightest idea what had happened, and was very near putting it down to the freak luck that always seemed to intervene on behalf of the Chosen One. Even a troll throwing random ingredients into a cauldron was bound to make something useful if it tried enough times.

"I wouldn't count on a repeat. Saint Potter has never had the slightest skill in Potions; I doubt that he really got much better over the summer. He probably just had someone teach it to him beforehand. I wouldn't put it past Dumbledore to feed him lessons like that ahead of time just to make sure he stays everyone's favorite, especially when there's someone new for him to show off to."

Blaise seemed satisfied with this and lapsed into thoughtful silence. Draco meant what he had said; there was no way Potter could actually make a potion that complicated to save his life. It had looked so bloody _perfect_. There was no way he did it without help. But Granger had seemed much too intent on making her own just like the book's to help him the way she usually did. She had seemed almost competitive, the way she glanced over at his once in a while to check on it and then returned to hers without a word.

"So who are you working with?" Blaise interrupted, clearly done with whatever he had been contemplating.

"Tarne and the Mudblood." Draco's voice was flat. Hopefully Blaise would take it as disdain for the pair he had to spend the year working with and not annoyance with the Slytherin for speaking again and interrupting.

Blaise smirked faintly at his tone, then grimaced in sympathy that was probably as fake as Draco's had been. "Sounds like you'll be going even lower than I will this year. Which one is it?"

"_The_ Mudblood," he repeated with emphasis. "Granger."

"Enjoy spending a year with that," Blaise laughed. He seemed cheered by the knowledge that the Draco would spend the year in worse company than he would.

"Yeah. But she should do most of the work, and Tarne seems submissive enough to sit there and listen to her talk the entire time."

"Hopefully," Blaise said without a trace of sincerity. He thought for a moment and added, "Bad luck that Granger of all people chose the same field you did. I wouldn't have expected someone so in love with books to choose a career where she'll spend all of her time being around people as a lobbyist. At least she won't live long enough to actually do that and annoy the hell out of even more people."

Draco inwardly cursed Blaise for knowing what his family did for a living and realizing that it would be an odd choice for someone like Granger. "Yeah," he agreed, "Good thing she and all of the other Mudbloods will be long gone by the time we're done here."

The other boy nodded and seemed to drift into thought again. Draco watched Crabbe and Goyle enter through the wall and was slightly grateful for Blaise's presence. Appearing to be in the middle of a conversation gave him an excuse not to deal with them. At least he could have an actual conversation with the boy sitting across from him. He silently motioned for them to keep going. Those two were completely useless for anything that didn't involve physical violence.

As they continued on through the common room to the dormitories with matching scowls at being dismissed, he realized that Granger had been the second person he had stopped the two from attacking. He frowned, knowing that they would start to feel useless and whine if they weren't allowed to do anything soon. Draco made a mental note to have them pick on a first year tomorrow.

With that resolved he relaxed back in his chair and observed the silent Blaise. He wondered what he was so deep in thought about. He hardly noticed him being so concentrated before. He let out a yawn and subconsciously Zabini followed suit.

"I'm off to bed," his fellow Slytherin said, stretching and then glanced down at Draco's book whose cover was bare. "Enjoy your reading." Draco could have sworn it was a statement of mockery, but chose to just roll his eyes and ignore it.

He waited patiently till Blaise had disappeared into the dormitory and then flipped back open his book.


End file.
